


Bad at Love

by Haunt_Haunt_Haunt



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: After Prom, Damien is a Virgin!?!?!?, Dark Side Polly, F/M, First Time, Light Side Damien?, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polly Actually Cares, Polly Is Actually Intelligent, Possible First Degree Homicide, So is Damien, book porn, lots of mentions, tail porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunt_Haunt_Haunt/pseuds/Haunt_Haunt_Haunt
Summary: Polly and Damien fuck and it dredges up a lot of issues.





	Bad at Love

"Like, are you sure?" Polly asked. She wasn't in her usual tank top and shorts. She was dressed in a sheer white glittery gown. She stood in his bedroom, which wasn't actually anything like she had expected. The floor was a wreck, which was typical Damien. There were clothes everywhere, and there was a desk with motorcycle parts scattered on it, but the posters were different. She had expected posters of Slayer and Godsmack, but instead, there was a poster of Nikola Tesla. There was also one of Marilyn Monroe and James Dean. There was a bookcase, and on it, he had Karl Marx's Communist Manifesto, heavily used. It had little post-its sticking out of it. There was also Anais Nin's Delta of Venus, which, for lack of a better term, was erotic nonsense. He also had Noam Chomsky and Aristotle, as well as an entire shelf of Anne Rice. That was unexpected, and she kinda liked it. She was getting a side of Damien she didn't know existed. No one really saw this side. The scholar side. It was hot.

"How can I not be sure?" He asked, tossing his bow tie onto the desk and taking off the tuxedo jacket he had actually bought, not rented.

"I mean, you never really paid any attention to me until, like, six months ago." It was the weirdest thing, too. She was minding her own business, hanging out with Miranda, when Damien came up really shyly, which he was absolutely not ever, and asked her out, which she accepted. Miranda had been really upset because she thought that he would corrupt her, but Miranda didn't know Polly as well as she thought she did.

"Yeah, but I've known you for years. Can a man not show his interest?"

"Damien, I've known a lot of people, had a lot of sex, and known a lot of people that have had a lot of sex. You don't want sex. I can't figure out what you do want though."

"Maybe I just want a nice night with you? I thought we were having a good time."

"We were, but I can't help but feel like you want something other than that. I'm Polly. You don't have to date Polly to get laid. I give my body freely."

He sighed as he unbuttoned his shirt. "You're right. It's not you that I want, but it's you that's here, and I want some action."

"Who do you want?"

"It's stupid."

"Well, yeah, 'cause you probably should have asked them to Prom. Is it Liam?" She asked, looking suspiciously at the shelf with all the Anne Rice.

"No, but I can see why you think that. I just think classic vampire literature is cool, alright?"

"Aaaaand you dodge again. Is it Vera?"

"It's.... Miranda," he said, hesitantly.

"Wait, Miranda? Why Miranda?"

"'Cause she's fucking adorable."

"Well, yeah. That's kind of her shtick."

"Yeah, but it's more than that. She's a princess, which helps with the whole Prince thing, but she's also delightfully evil. Did you hear what she and Vera did with CrowdSerfs? Also, she had her tasting serf gouge out her study serf's eye with a spoon after she failed a test. There was also lighting up the water polo captain's house when he refused to let her on the team. Nothing gets me revved up more than arson," he said, finishing on the buttons on his shirt and tossing it on the table as well. He was going to get motor oil all over it. Polly picked it up and folded it absently, then placed it on top of the bookcase.

"Look Damien, you're hot, and I still have every intention to fuck you six ways from Sunday, but I think that you should stop hiding and trying to make her jealous, and just talk to her."

"Why? She's just going to turn me down."

"You're being a coward."

Damien stopped taking off his belt and looked her right in the eye. "What did you just call me?"

"Oh. I'm sorry. Let me try that again. YOU. ARE. BEING. A. COWARD," she said, enunciating properly. Her time with Vera paid off.

"No, Polly. No, I'm not. Damien Fucking LaVey is not a Stan-damned coward. 'Damien Fucking LaVey is a sexy beast' I think is what you meant to say."

"Can you just not scream her name while we're banging and unzip me?"

He crossed the room and started unzipping her dress, lightly caressing her back as he did, sliding his fingers down on the inside of the zipper. Polly felt herself getting aroused, but then, Damien did that to her. She would never admit that she felt the same way about him as he did about Miranda. She had played her part well, and now she had him. She couldn't just let him go, but could she? She wanted him to be happy, but she wanted him. It was kind of an ethical dilemma. Was it better to have him and him to be unhappy, or was it better the other way? She didn't want to have to think this hard. The copious amounts of weed she smoked before she agreed to come home with him was starting to wear off. She shivered when he touched her. He was burning hot against her icy ectoplasm that she coalesced to be corporeal, and she was sure he was thinking of how cold she was. He unzipped the dress all the way down to her lower back, and he must have leaned in, because she could feel his breath on her neck, hot and heavy. She smiled and lowered the straps slightly, so that the dress hung loosely, then turned around. He finished taking off his belt, and he looked at her. She paid attention the stiffening shaft in his pants. She had imagined, sure, but he was smaller than she expected, not that that was a bad thing. He was average, and that probably shouldn't have surprised her. He caught her staring and shifted, making the bulge go away.

"Sorry. You're actually... like... really pretty."

"Damien, if you're getting hard, then you're doing better than most guys I've slept with. Did you know that most men our age have trouble with that?"

"People."

"Umm... what?"

"Most people our age. Male is just one part of the gender spectrum. There are other people with external plumbing that don't identify as male. Stan, Polly, be progressive and shit."

Was Damien just smart? Polly really wanted this now. Here he was being all intelligent and hot, and she tried not to stare at him like a slack-jawed idiot.

"Right. That. So, there is a problem."

"Alright," he said, looking unsure of himself. She stared at his muscled stomach for a second before continuing.

"I'm not wearing a bra. Is that a problem?"

He responded by yanking the dress down, and it hung loosely at her waist. Her breasts stood up on their own and always would. One of the perks of being dead. Her nipples were actually smaller, and she didn't have large areolas, and that was something that she was glad would never change. She liked the way she looked. Her bare skin over her stomach was blemish-free, and Damien idly reached out and brushed his hand against it. She shivered, and he drew back like she had slapped him.

"Sorry."

"Why? Do you want express permission? Damien, please touch me. I want you to touch me."

He reached out again, lightly pinching one of her nipples. "Consent is important. And enthusiastic consent is hot."

"You're so gentle."

"That's just how I am."

"I'm not saying I don't enjoy it. It just wasn't what I was expecting."

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her collarbone, and she shivered again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and shimmying out of her dress the rest of the way. She wore her good underwear for this. They were white satin, and another perk of being dead? She didn't have to worry about anything gross staining them. He glanced down, and again brushed his fingers against her. This time, it was against her groin. She laid her head on his chest, and smiled to herself. It was like he was scared of her. She had a horrifying thought.

"Damien, are you a virgin?"

His face turned dark red. "What? No! That's... so very false."

"Oh my god, you are! That's so cute!"

He looked like he was ready to bolt. This was clearly a secret that he didn't want anyone to know.

"It's okay. I can show you. It's not hard. I won't tell."

"I just wasn't ready."

"And that's okay. Let me help." She reached down and grabbed him. He was solid. She stroked him through his pants slowly, and he twitched with every motion.

She leaned over and whispered into his ear. "Take off your pants. Let me pop your cherry."

He did, and she didn't think he could have been faster, letting loose the button and letting his dress pants slide to the floor. She appraised him, then pushed him backwards onto the bed, then dragged her nails against his inner thighs softly. He twitched, and she smiled.

"Don't get nervous, and there's no need to get performance anxiety. There isn't really any such thing as bad sex. I'll enjoy myself. If it helps, don't say dumb things and lay here and enjoy yourself. It's all you have to do. The not saying dumb things part is really important."

She took off her underwear and guided his hand to her clit, then laid down on the bed next to him. He may have been new, but he learned quick. She stuck her hand in his underwear and grabbed him, and he paused for a minute, then continued rhythmically rubbing her. Her breathing shuddered here and there, but for the most part, it was good. She was enjoying herself. She had wet dreams of this for a long time, and now here she was. Sure, the circumstances were a little different, but the end goal was the same, and as she moved his underwear and let his cock out, she smiled. She was ready. She just hoped he wouldn't regret this. She straddled him and watched his stomach rise and fall quickly. His pulse had increased, as had his breathing. His tail swished like it had a mind of his own, and she reached out and touched it.

"You know that's intimate, right? That's the same as grabbing my dick."

"Good. That was the intent." She pulled it over to her and looked at it, then licked it. His eyes got really wide, and she stuck the tail into her mouth.

"Nonononono! Don't do that!" He screamed. She took it out of her mouth, concerned.

"What's wrong?"

"That's a weapon. It can shred you."

She looked at him like he was an idiot. "Damien, I'm dead."

"Oh yeah," he said, but still put it back to where it had been before she grabbed it.

"So, fun fact, I can actually still self-lubricate, and by the looks of things..." She reached down and touched the tip of his dick. There was a small wet spot on the tip, "...you can too. Are you ready? Are you sure?"

He glanced around the room like he was having second thoughts, then his lips formed a line, and he nodded. "Thanks, Polly. I'm glad it's you. You're one of the few people I trust this much. And besides, if you tell anyone, I'll just deny the shit out of it."

She smiled, but now she was having reservations. Her entire motivation for this was to bang the hottest guy in school, but now she was having feelings. She pushed the thoughts aside and eased down on top of him, sliding him in. He gasped, and she did too. He had ridges, and that was something he had on the other men she had sex with. She got him all the way in.

"Ribbed for my pleasure?"

He smiled, and she started moving. He tried to help, but she kept going and put a hand on his chest. "Don't move. Enjoy. You're a breathing dildo. Let me do the work."

He stopped moving and bit his lip, and she raised her arms over her head, showing off her entire body as she moved, looking him in the eyes. He looked away, and his entire body flushed dark red. She grabbed his arms and placed his hands on her breasts, and he squeezed. She giggled, and then gasped, feeling him clench up and thicken. It was an amazing feeling, and she dropped her arms and braced herself on his chest, lifting faster and harder. She started making noise before he did, feeling herself coming closer and closer. In that moment, she could see being with him and only him for the rest of her un-life maybe, totally not being bored for once, and when she thought that, she got off hard. Harder than she ever had before. Her tightening caused him to orgasm, and his semen erupted from his throbbing cock, filling her with boiling-hot liquid. It was one of the best feelings she had ever experienced, entirely different from pretty much any semen anywhere, and Polly wasn't exactly new at this.

Do this forever and not get bored? Great sex and he actually had a brain in his head? Totally feasible. She just had to deal with Miranda first.


End file.
